Commencement
June 14, 2004
In September, 2003, President of
Suffolk University, David Sargent, sent a letter to Maitre Abdoulaye Wade,
President of the Republic of Senegal,
inviting him to be commencement speaker at Suffolk’s
commencement exercises in Boston in
May of 2004. I believe that there were a
couple of follow-up requests, but no response from President Wade. By December, the decision makers at Suffolk
were concerned that President Wade had not responded, and feared that they
needed to find another speaker. They
sent a letter to the President of the Republic notifying him that since he
hadn’t responded, they had found another speaker. Governor of the Commonwealth
of Massachusetts, Mitt Romney, was
the replacement. Two weeks after
Romney’s appointment, President Wade’s office
responded that he would be delighted to be the speaker.
When I arrived in Dakar
in January, 2004, I was assigned the task of making sure that President Wade’s office understood that another speaker had been
selected, and to be sure that proper procedure was followed to ensure we had
not created any major breach of international diplomacy etiquette. I spoke to former Minister of Education and
now consultant to the President, Andre Sonko,
Minister of Education Moutapha Sourang,
Public Affairs Officer of the US Embassy Michael Pelletier, and others about
how to deal with this. The general
consensus was that if the Head of State says he is coming, he is coming! They suggested we inform Wade that he would
receive an honorary Doctorate, would be given another speaking opportunity
during the commencement weekend, and welcome him. I was working my way through Senegalese
political ladder in an effort to convey that message to Wade’s
representatives.
In early March, I was informed by
leadership at Suffolk University
in Boston that “In no way is Wade
to come to Boston”. The controversy over gay marriage is mounting
in Massachusetts and Romney has
taken a very strong position in opposition to legislation that has been
passed. There have been appeals and
petitions by faculty and students to uninvite
Romney. There are threats of
demonstrations. Leadership of the
University issues a strong statement supporting its decision to keep Romney as
its speaker, citing freedom of expression for anyone. I vicariously follow this saga on the Boston
Globe website and through e-mails will colleagues.
In late March, Jim Sintros, Andre Sonko, and I get an appointment with Bruno Diatta, President Wade’s Chief of
Protocol. We are ushered into his office
in the royal palace near the Place d’Independence for
our meeting. Diatta
has been with the top ranks of Senegalese government since 1978, working under
three presidents in two different parties.
He now has the rank of Ambassador and the ear of President Wade. We exchange cordialities, give an
introduction to our mission in Senegal,
and try to explain the awkwardness of the situation surrounding Wade’s potential stepping into some sort of gay marriage
controversy in Boston. We doubt that it would make good press in Senegal
for the Moslem President of a Moslem country to be caught in that
controversy. As an alternative, we
suggest that Wade speak at our Commencement Ceremony at the Dakar
campus in June and there be awarded his honorary Doctorate. Ambassador Diatta
looks on his Outlook calendar and says that President Wade is available on June
14 and that he will attend.
Well, President Wade is not that easy
to pin down, and everyone in Senegal
knows it. He is constantly traveling – Paris,
Washington, Taiwan,
the Vatican, anywhere
but Senegal. Often this travel is planned at the very last
minute. Between that and any potential
emergencies of state that might call him away, we are still quite skeptical
that he really will come to our little commencement ceremony in Dakar. Why we don’t even have any real graduates,
since students complete only the first two years of their undergraduate degrees
at our campus, then transfer to Boston
or elsewhere to complete their degree requirements. We do have a nice ceremony every year where
we award them a “certificate of completion” for their two years. Ceremonies are a big thing here.
So privately I am quite sure that he
will not attend. Further, my
approximately bi-weekly calls to Ambassador Diatta,
directly or through intermediaries, result in some sort of a deferral of a
confirmation – “As soon as he returns from …., we will let you know.” This continues into early June. In the meantime, I have all but given up and
am working on another speaker, as a backup.
Generally when President Wade is unable to attend a formal event, he
sends one of his ministers (there are 39) in his stead. Personally I don’t want another minister of
government to speak. We have had a
couple in the past, and they are undynamic, don’t
really address the students, and it indicates some sort of “partnership” with
the government of Senegal which we have been promised but has never
materialized, not as a result of our not trying. After discussions with the Public Affairs
Officer at the Embassy, Michael Pelletier, we decide to seek out a leader of
one of the local offices of a large multinational corporation as a
speaker. First on the list is Gabriel
Lopes of Citigroup. I have met him a
couple of times and think it is a great idea.
He is a good speaker, a Senegalese national, and we are in the process
of applying for a grant from Citigroup Foundation. I e-mail him and he immediately accepts the
invitation. I let him know the situation
with Wade, and he understands.
So, one week before commencement, with
invitations already sent out, planning in the advanced stages, I get a call
from the Chief of Protocol’s office that President Wade has confirmed that he
will attend. I continue to remain
skeptical! And how to change the
program, how to notify Mr. Lopes, how will this effect the arrangements? It really hits me on the Thursday before the
Monday of the Ceremony when the Assistant Chief of Protocol, Massamba Sarr, and the Chief of Security for Wade’s office show up to view the soccer field where the
event will take place and finalize arrangements with us. Of course they want to change many
things. They also offer us many
resources – platforms, tents, chairs, etc.
Much work now to do.
We agree that Mr. Lopes will speak, then the student speaker, Marieme Sav Sow, then Wade will
receive his degree and make a short speech.
President Wade will be awarded an honorary Doctor of Laws and be given a
citation and doctoral hood. Based on the
“official biography” of Wade, I write the citation, which will be read my Vice
President of Suffolk, Marguerite Dennis, as Dean Bill O’Neill places the
appropriate hood over Wade’s head. I show the citation to Andre Sonko, Massamba Sarr, and
others. A couple of changes are made,
and the citation is approved. I have it
printed on gold-edged paper and placed in a special folder for the
presentation. We are told that several
ministers of the government will also attend.
A seating chart is created and approved.
On Friday afternoon I go to meet
Minister of Education Moustapha Sourang. It occurs to us that we are really in the
domain of education, and Sourang needs to feel
included in this whole process or it might be perceived as a slight. At 4 PM,
ENEA Director Ndour and I are ushered into his office. Being Friday, everyone is dressed in his best
Boubou, me in a business suit. It appears that the President’s office has
neglected to inform Sourang of his attendance at the
ceremony. So Minister Sourang and his Chief of Cabinet look at his schedule
(which is booked for Monday) and ask me if we can change the ceremony to
Tuesday or Thursday. I politely inform
him that invitations have been sent out, VIPs from Boston
are leaving on Tuesday, and that the ceremony must be held as scheduled. He agrees to cancel a couple of things. I show him the citation, my welcoming speech,
and review the details. I also apologize
for his not knowing about the ceremony.
We did send him an invitation and a formal letter requesting his
presence. He tells me he knows it is not
Suffolk’s fault. President Wade’s modus operendi.
While we are in the meeting, my cell
phone rings. In Senegal
there is nothing wrong with taking a call while in a meeting, everyone does it
constantly, so I do. It is President Wade’s office. I am
being “summoned to the palace immediately”.
They know I am at the Ministry of Education and are waiting for me as
soon as we are finished. I have never
been “summoned to a palace” before. I
like the sound of that!
We drive to the palace. We walk through two or three x-ray machines
which beep but are ignored. I have keys,
cell phone, etc., which set off alarms, but no one seems concerned. We are led to the office of the Minister-Counsellor of Human Rights, Madame Maitre (attorney) Mame Bassine Niang, a large woman in traditional dress. She speaks pretty good English. We are led into a very large conference
room. It is the room where cabinet
meetings are held. She greets me and is
very sticky sweet. She wants to know
what the format of the ceremony will be and wants to discuss what President Wade’s speech should be on.
I have brought with me the program for the ceremony, a draft of my
speech, a copy of the citation, just in case.
She makes a couple of suggestions for changing the program, which I
agree to, but keep the same. It really
is too late for major changes. I suggest
that President Wade merely make a few remarks encouraging the students about
their accomplishments and the road ahead.
That is the typical fare of commencement speeches. I say it can be in English or in French. She says he will speak on NEPAD (New Economic
Partnership for African Development) and Education. NEPAD is a pet project of President Wade’s and he speaks of it often. In my mind it is another one of those
acronyms for African unity that involve big summit meetings but little of
substance. I think the general
Senegalese population shares my view.
The meeting ends cordially and we are ushered out.
On Saturday afternoon I am drinking a
glass of gingembre juice at the third day of a baby
naming ceremony for Frederick, Donna and Dramane Coulibaly’s
third boy, when I get a call on my cell phone.
It is Madame Minister Niang. Should would like me to write about five pages of text in
English for President Wade to read when he accepts his award on Monday. I am caught a bit off guard, but get the gist
of what she would like me to write. She
would like me to fax her the speech early Sunday
morning. So I excuse myself from the
party and head to the office to write inspired prose. I mimic the type of speeches I have read in
the Senegalese newspaper, heard on the local news, and have had to spend hours
sitting through many too many times. I
have President Wade praising the efforts of Suffolk
and its mission as fitting into the goals of NEPAD and Pan-Africanism. I even put in a paragraph where he promises
scholarships and other support for the Dakar
campus. Can’t hurt to try! Sunday morning I fax the speech and soon get
a call from Madame Minister Niang telling me the speech is great and thanking
me. All is going well.
Sunday evening is the arrival of the
VIPs from Boston, Vice President
Marguerite Dennis, Dean Bill O’Neill, and Jim Sintros. President Sargent is unable to attend,
recovering from knee replacement surgery.
I previously requested from the Assistant Chief of Protocol Massamba Sarr to allow the visitors access to the Salon D’Honeur, the VIP arrivals lounge. He arranges this immediately and tells me to
go to the Salon and request Mr. Diop.
Manga drives me there, drops me off at the entrance and in I go. Anything to avoid the typical arrival area –
an ordeal I go through every time I arrive in Dakar but one I wouldn’t wish on
anyone. Inside the Solon D’Honeur I find Mr. Diop.
He is expecting me and gives me a visitor badge to wear. Within a few minutes I am wisked
off in a small shuttle bus and driven with a few others to the tarmac, right to
the bottom of the stairs descending from the First Class cabin of the
just-arrived Air France
jet. So when Marguerite, Bill, and Jim
come down the stairs, there I am to greet them.
We get on the shuttle bus, go back to the Salon and wait on leather
sofas while someone takes their passports and tickets, clears them through
customs and immigration, retrieves their bags, and escorts us to Suffolk’s
little Renault sedan. Manga has put on a
Western-style suit for the occasion, something I have never seen him in
before. We go the Hotel Meridien Presidente for check
in. They ask me to wait while they go up
to their rooms, then come down and we go to the bar to
chat and have a drink. And so begins two
and a half days of non-stop meetings, other than the Commencement Ceremony.
Monday morning arrives - the day of
commencement. I am prepared for a
non-stop day with having to be “on” the whole day. Although my assistant, Felix, has promised me
that everything would be taken care of prior to Monday, leaving as little to
the last minute as possible, I am skeptical.
I guess I was dreaming when I assumed that would be the case. Arriving Monday morning on campus, I see that
tents have really not been erected yet, chairs haven’t
even arrived, etc., etc., etc. Felix is
organizing a group of itinerate day laborers to set up the platforms and
tents. Chairs are arriving imminently. I look up at the sky and decide to put my
trust in Allah for the day. What else
can I do? At 1 PM we have scheduled a press conference, inviting all
media who speak English or who cover education in the Senegalese press or
TV. We are going to show off our
videoconferencing technology by staging a symposium with leaders of our Boston
and Madrid campuses being shown
on the screen as I moderate a discussion on Global Education for the
media. Then we feed them and hope they
write something in the local papers. Boston
and Madrid have invited media
too.
At noon
Marguerite, Bill, and Jim arrive and we prepare for the videoconference. I have arranged everything, and the system
has been tested twice. If the
videoconference technology konks out, we will just
improvise. The 1 PM press conference begins at 1:30. Only two
reporters arrive here, one who has interviewed me before. The discussion is crisp and very
impressive. Good comments are made by Madrid
representatives and in Boston. We have arranged for African students to
attend at each site. Momar Fall makes
some great comments in French, which are more interesting to our local
reporters than the English conversations which they probably had trouble
following. After about 45 minutes we
close the discussion and have a very nice luncheon next door. I am glad I will be getting a meal, because
commencement begins at 5 PM and I
need to go get ready.
I look out my office window to see that
the soccer field is being transformed, with a tent-covered “tribunal” for the
President, academic dignitaries, other ministers, and speakers. Another tent is set up for the students and
staff. Yet another on
a raised platform for all the invited VIPs. The rest of the field is filled with rows of
red and white plastic lawn chairs for the rest of the expected audience. The basketball court is covered by two small
tents, where the students and the dignitaries will don their academic robes and
prepare to march in procession-style to the ceremony.
All afternoon I receive phone call
after phone call from the assistant chief of protocol, Massamba
Sarr, informing me of yet another dignitary who is coming. Another seat is added to the podium each
time. First it is Macky
Sall, the Prime Minister of Senegal. Then it is Alpha Oumar Kanare,
former President of Mali, now President of the African
Union. We lug down two large leather
easy chairs from Marcel’s office for the two Presidents. The rest of us sit on normal chairs.
At 4 PM
I receive a phone call from Madame Minister Niang. Her tone is far different from the cordial
one I experienced when I met her on Friday or heard from her on the phone on
Saturday and Sunday. The citation is all
wrong, she shouts. I got all the facts
wrong (even though I took them directly from the President’s official
biography). She is going to fax me the
corrections. She is quite rude and
nasty. I am quite pissed off
myself. I don’t do well with last minute
changes on the best of days, but this is the limit. Her rudeness upsets me greatly. The fax arrives of the citation copy I gave
her on Friday with President Wade’s illegible
scribbles on the side. I ask Moussa
Diouf to help me interpret them as we hastily try to modify the copy of the
citation that Marguerite is going to read.
I will have to redo the gold edged one and present it at another
time. The changes are quite
trivial. President Wade is 76 years old,
has lots of degrees, appointments, honors, awards, etc., and I could not
possibly have listed all of them or their dates. But one must be accommodating. As I calm down, I realize that Madame
Minister Niang must constantly be put in this position. It is the President’s style to leave
everything for the last minute, then leave his aides
to run around scrambling to prepare and correct everything. I am merely getting the brunt of her
frustration.
By 4:30,
the dignitaries and other audience members are arriving. Students are getting into their robes and
preparing. Our “hosts and hostesses” in
suits and beautiful African dresses we have commissioned, are ready to escort
everyone to their seats. We stand in a
“reception line” awaiting all the dignitaries.
It is about 90 degrees, quite warm to be standing in academic regalia,
but I am getting used to that. One by
one the motorcycle escorts lead the limousines with the dignitaries to the VIP
parking area. Each dignitary gets out,
surrounded by paparazzi with cameras at the ready and others jockeying to see,
take photos, shake hands. Mr. Sarr
escorts each one down the reception line, introducing us to this or that
minister of whatever. This is carefully
orchestrated based on some sort of reverse hierarchy of command. And finally (about 5:30) a big limousine with four African secret service
types running alongside pulls up with President Wade and President Kanare in the back seat.
African women are on the sidelines (Wade groupies) in traditional dress,
singing and chanting, backed up by drumming, while ENEA students are shouting
some sort of welcome on behalf of their student body. I am introduced to each President, one at a
time, and they make their way down the reception line. It is all surreal to me. Wade is a short, very old man, with no affect
or gleam in his eye at all, being led by his handlers. I expected an old but dynamic and energetic man. What I saw was quite different.
Mr. Sarr orchestrates a
procession. First come
the majorettes from a local Christian high school. Then the Senegalese
military band. Then
the students in their robes. Then the presidential color guard. Then us. I cannot remember what order we processed
in. During the convocation last fall, I
led. This time, I can’t even remember. This was all going too smoothly and I am in
awe. We get to the tribunal and sit
down. The military band plays the
Senegalese national anthem followed by the Star Spangled Banner.
I wait for the music to die down, then
I slowly walk to the podium (which I designed and had built for the day) to
deliver my welcoming speech. I am calm,
in control, and kvelling inside. I greet everyone, in the proper order of
dignitaries down the line to the students.
Although I have my whole speech ready to read in French, I chicken out
and switch to English after the introductions and welcome. I then introduce Gabriel Lopes, who speaks in
English and then French. Then comes Marieme Sav Sow, our student speaker. Marieme is outstanding, among the top
students I have ever encountered. She
has a 4.0 GPA and completed two years’ study in one year. She is going to continue on to Boston,
and I worked hard to get her a scholarship, the only one I pushed for. Her speech, in English, is moving, eloquent,
and perfectly appropriate for a commencement ceremony.
Next Dean O’Neill comes to the podium
to announce his candidate to receive an honorary Doctor of Laws, President
Abdoulaye Wade. Vice President
Marguerite Dennis then reads the citation that I hastily revised based on the
faxed changes sent an hour earlier. I
hold my breath that I didn’t get any of the details wrong this time. Dean O’Neill places the Doctor of Laws hood
over his head and hands him his honorary degree. President Wade is beaming. He pulls the ribbon off of the degree and
holds it up for the paparazzi to photograph.
He loves getting awards and honorary degrees!
Then comes the point where President
Wade is to make his “brief remarks”. I
wonder whether he will read the English text I prepared. In fact, he reads about three of the five pages
(in rather poor English, I might add), leaving out the
section where he promises Suffolk
scholarships (I tried!). He then shifts
into French to read a formal speech about his favorite subject – NEPAD. He ties in globalization and the importance
of education only slightly. It is clear
that this speech is not aimed at our graduates, but to the dignitaries and
media present, as well as the general electorate who will watch this on
television or read about it in the newspapers over the next few days. And of course his brief remarks last about
one hour, which I consider short by African standards.
Following the speech Dean O’Neill makes
appropriate brief remarks to the students about to receive their certificates
of completion. His last parting words
are that if the students are continuing on to Boston,
they should dress warmly. I then assist
with the handing out of the certificates as Moussa Diouf calls the students up,
one at a time. There are eighteen
students accepting certificates today.
Mr. Sarr arranges for President Wade to come and shake hands with the
first three (and kiss the female recipients), then President Kanare the next three, then Ambassador Roth (US Ambassador)
then, next, Minister Sourang. The students are delighted. When it comes time to award Babacar Ndour his certificate, I call up Mr. Ndour,
director of ENEA and proud father, to come up and present his son with his
certificate.
When all the students have been called
up to receive their certificates and accept the ceremonial African sash that we
give out, we ask the President to pose for a group photo. It is a very exciting moment. Everyone then moves to the campus quad area
where we have set up for a small reception.
We had wanted to organize a VIP reception upstairs, but were told by Mr.
Sarr that President Wade would prefer to join everyone downstairs. Wade and Kanare
actually spend some time at the reception, greeting people, posing for photos,
and doing all the things politicians do so well. I try to engage President Wade in a
conversation about our campus, but am unable.
He is busy scanning the scene and greeting everyone. That surely will be my last opportunity to do
so.
The event is now over. I can remove my heavy robe and try to
relax. Jim, Bill, and Marguerite invite
me for dinner. We go to a nice French
restaurant on the water that I know, have a slow meal, discussing business,
politics, revisiting the day, and enjoying the good food. I know that the next day will be meetings
with them and all business. I am so glad
that the day is over and totally amazed that it went so well – relatively on
time, all the dignitaries in attendance, almost as if it had been planned!
You can view photos of the event at:
http://www.suffolk.edu/dakar/commencement
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